Hell and A Hangover
by Tunnel-Visionary
Summary: Some people just have no sense of time, and he was one of them. Sequel to 'When a Tornado Meets a Volcano'.
1. Hanging By a Moment

**Hell and a Hangover**

Disclaimer: Does not own, does not own, does not own… It's yours, Dick Wolf. All yours.

I basically am just taking a break from my two slightly humorous stories, because I can only go so long without some dramaz….

Also, side note, this probably will not make sense unless you've read my other fic, _When a Tornado Meets a Volcano,_ as this is the sequel, haha. But, if you are still interested in this and have not read _WaTMaV_, it isn't really that long, as I am not really keen on writing very long fics (though this is disproven by my seemingly never ending House MD fics :[ ).

**Chapter One: Hanging By A Moment**

Some people just have no sense of time, and he was one of them. How could he be? He hadn't even noticed as the past few years flew by. Well, sure he had_ noticed_… There were unavoidable things that one had to be aware of, such as the finalization of his divorce, Maureen getting married, Munch finally retiring (unwillingly, of course), Lizzie graduating from college, Fin transferring back to narcotics (as he was averse to deal with his new, rookie partner), Dick returning from his first tour of duty, and his second, he and Olivia both taking (and passing) the sergeants test, Kathleen getting married, Eli heading into middle school, Maureen having a baby…

It seemed that a lot of things had happened, things that he recognized as landmarks, big events in his life, in his kid's lives, in his still strange relationship with his now ex and once wife. That thought amused him, in a sick way. His ex-wife. She hadn't wanted to be a part of his life anymore, but, he wondered, how in the hell could you not be a part of someone's life when there are people out there who are made up of equal parts of each of you? It was beyond him.

But, back to the issue of time and how fleeting it was, or appeared to be. It wasn't as if the incidents themselves that had just sped by, it was just that by now they all sort of blurred into one long, never ending year. As if each new event was just another day, because by then all of the days had become just _a_ day, _one_ day, one after another until it turned out that he had seven years worth of days and only a handful of memories to show for them.

He thought it was almost depressing. Actually, it _was_ depressing. Like he was watching his life from outside one of those huge department store windows at Christmas time, and it was just sitting there as he stood in the frigid, biting cold with the grey, mushy snow (sludge) around his boots, on a bright, happy looking display, with big, jolly red letters surrounded by paper snow flakes hanging above it, exclaiming what a wonderful present it would make for you or a loved one, a nice full life that he no longer could afford.

His musings depressed him, and being depressed made him angry. After all, he had no reason to feel this way. After all, he was still involved in his kids lives, after all, he still had a great job that he loved, and _after all_…

There was still a great void in his chest that he hadn't seemed to be able to fill. Seven years. Seven, lonely years of going home to an empty apartment. He scoffed at the idea; an apartment. He had an empty apartment when what he really wanted was a home, one that was warm inside even when the heat went out because the warmth that a family brings to a place is far more sustaining than some fucking pipes and hot air. And… Well, he didn't have it anymore.

The weekends when Eli came to stay with him weren't so bad. They had the semblance of that warmth, a taste of what he could've, should've, had. Yes, the weekends when his kids dropped by were the ones where the days seemed longer and happier, and that teasing warmth flittered around his ankles and he basked in it, because those were the days that he had always dreamed of. Every moment he had with his daughters, his sons, and now his beautiful grandchild were the best moments of his life, but they were just that. Moments.

And he was tired of living for mere moments, of hanging on to his sanity because maybe one more moment was around the corner. He wanted a constant, like the constant he'd had with Kathy only more… Well, constant.

God, this was depressing, and because it was depressing it was irritating. He hated dwelling on all of this, but he couldn't help it. The older his kids got, the older _he_ got, the lonelier he felt.

The worst thing was that it was getting bad. The anger, the depression, it just kept building, and people were noticing. Well, a person was noticing. Said person had noticed from the beginning, had asked what was wrong and he had, as per usual, closed himself off. Not that that stopped her, no, said person kept on him, harping about his health, about how he wasn't sleeping enough, how he was sleeping too much, he wasn't eating enough, he was eating shit, he was getting too heavy, too thin, too nice, too mean, too lazy, too absorbed in his work and she just kept going on and on for seven long (short) years.

He was shocked that he didn't mind. He would have before then, but before then he had a wife who would rag on him all the time, so he sure as hell hadn't needed it from his partner, but after the divorce was settled and the air had cleared between them after their _incident_, she started in on him like never before, and truth be told he was kind of glad that she had. It showed that she cared, that she was there, a constant, _the_ constant, at that point. He knew that even when his job was on the line, when it wasn't a constant, that she would be, and it kept him from diving over the deep end.

And, if he was being honest with himself, she was always right. Especially now. He had become too thin, he did sleep too little, he was too absorbed in his work, he was too tired and he was pretty sure that it scared her, because he knew that as much as she was his rock that he was hers. He chuckled softly as he thought about her, about how without her he wouldn't be the detective he was today, he wouldn't be who he was today, and he thought about how, over these long, nearly twenty years together that she had grown to love his sorry ass, and how hardened he would have had to have been not to love hers. A smile spread across his face as he pondered, almost out-loud, _what would we do without each other?_

It was that, that exact thought that brought him to where he was tonight, sitting in a dimly lit restaurant in a blazer that had long ago become too big for him, especially in the shoulders and the arms (because, let's face it, you can't stay ripped if you never even attempt to hit the gym) wondering how in the hell he was going to explain all of this to her, how he was going to explain _this_ to his beloved partner, his one last constant. He rubbed his chin slowly, his coarse, two day old stubble scratching at his fingers, and he tapped his feet restlessly. To the outside world he probably looked like some tired old man trying his best not to look nervous on his first date with some girl he'd met online, but in reality he was just tired. Really tired. And, well, maybe a little nervous.

"Hey… It's cold out tonight." Olivia smiled, slightly out of breath as she sat down across from him at the small table where he had parked himself. She slipped out of her snow covered coat and looked at the bottle of wine on the table before running a hand through her now short hair (it was the way he liked it, how it was when they had first met and he had tried to write her off as a tomboy who wouldn't last five minutes let alone five, ten, fifteen plus years in the SVU). "We celebrating or something? You gonna be a granddad again, old man?"

Elliot smirked a little and shook his head, looking at her with a certain type of adoration he wasn't sure he understood or had ever felt before. He almost laughed again, too, looking at her. As much as he had changed over the past few years, she hadn't changed at all. Well, aside from the hair and a few new crinkles around her eyes that only popped up when she smiled, she was exactly the same. And she was beautiful. He coughed slightly, trying to focus on what he was supposed to be telling her. "Actually… Uh… We need to talk."

Olivia's smile quickly disappeared as her partner reached over and poured her a glass of the Merlot. "We do? Uh… what about? Did we do something wrong?"

"No, no… Nothing like that." He cleared his throat slightly and looked perplexed as he thought about what he was going to say next. "I uh… I've decided I'm… I'm not going to be a detective anymore."

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A/N: BUH BUM. What now. Haha, just for the record, I will try to make this fic far less full of angst and violent sex than its predecessor.


	2. Wish I Broke Mirrors Instead of Promises

**Hell and a Hangover**

Disclaimer: So SVU doesn't belong to me… It's yours, Dick Wolf. :[

**Chapter Two: I Wish That I Broke Mirrors Instead of Promises**

_"No, no… Nothing like that." He cleared his throat slightly and looked perplexed as he thought about what he was going to say next. "I uh… I've decided I'm… I'm not going to be a detective anymore."_

Olivia stared at him, face contorting as she did her best to calmly take in what her partner had just said. She realized she was failing when she felt hot tears sting at her eyes, and she dropped her head so that her eyes could fixate on her lap and not on his gaunt face. He couldn't just… _Stop_, could he? Her eyes burned and she blinked hard, trying her best to make the pain subside, but the fact that his words had already gotten such a rise out of her made the anger boil and churn in her stomach and climb quickly to her throat where she thought she'd choke on it.

He's leaving? _Merry fucking Christmas, Olivia_, she thought, the words echoing in her mind almost in time with the sweet carol playing softly over the radio, wishing that she would have just that. She cursed the song, pressing her eyelids together so tightly she feared that she might burst some sort of blood vessel. How could he? After all these years together, after all the _things_ that had happened to them, how could he just leave without… without even considering her? What would she do? Get a new partner? Work with one of the two new dipshits that passed (God knows how) for detectives? Train up some rookie? She was too old, too tired and too fucking attached for that. If she were being totally honest with herself, which (if she were) would have been quite a rare and blessed occasion, she was probably too attached and too tired and too old to do this God-awful job, but he made it… She had no idea what he made it, because he didn't really make it good, he might not have even made it better. It still sucked. People were still getting hurt, over and over again, it was the same old story with a different title and the character's names were changed, but he made the job… worth it. Worth feeling too old and too tired and definitely too attached. So what would it be without him?

_Not worth it._

She felt moderately disgusted with herself as she realized it was true. It did make her feel good to know that she helped people, that sometimes she saved lives, that sometimes the bad guys didn't win, but when it came down to it she realized that she wouldn't be able to do it without him, and therefore she couldn't take sole credit for anything that did make her feel decent. And so, without him, what would she feel? Didn't he even think about that? Did he not feel that way, was it honestly just she? If so, that was unfair. And if he did feel that way, it was even more unfair. God, he was an asshole sometimes. And, of course, she was a bitch for thinking so.

Her breath hitched in her chest and, narrowing her eyes, she looking up at him once again. "You're… you're quitting? After… God, how long has it been? You're just, _poof_, gone?"

"W-well no, no not exactly." He licked his lips nervously and folded his hands on top of the table, then thought better of the action and quickly placed them back in his lap. "I uh… I was offered… A new position."

"A new position?" Oh, he could not _possibly_ mean-

"Captain." Elliot finished her thought, but out loud, of course, and cleared his throat, eyeing her anxiously as he anticipated her reaction to the news.

"Captain?"

"Yes. And… I accepted."

"You _accepted_?" She repeated, obviously inclined to simply restate everything that he was saying and add a question mark at the end. How Irish of her, she scoffed at the thought. She'd been around him for too long.

Elliot sighed, slightly annoyed by his partner's answers. "Are you going to do that for the rest of the night?"

"Do what for the rest of the night?" Fuck, she needed to stop this. She sounded like an idiot, granted she felt like one too, her eyes threatening to spill over, her throat tight with tears she wasn't willing to cry, all over this? It wasn't as though someone had died.

He gave her a 'not-amused' look and she ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain some sense of her own mentality before shaking her head, "I'm sorry, I'm just… You know what, I'm fucking confused. Why in the hell are you leaving?"

"I'm not _technically_ leaving. I'm being promoted."

"God dammit, Elliot, you know what I mean. You ARE leaving. You're leaving a job you enjoy, you're… leaving me." The tears welled up again and she begged herself not to get emotional. Ok, well too late for that, so she begged herself not to let it be personal, and to calm down, but dammit he was leaving her, just like everyone else had. Munch had left, Fin was gone, Cragen was heading out the door. Hell, even Alex was gone, again. On to new and brighter things and everyone had just been leaving until they were the only two people left, and up until this moment everything had been ok because at least after all was said and done they were still there together.

And here he was, leaving her. Just like everyone else.

He was such an _asshole_ sometimes.

She cringed as 'The First Noel' trickled out of the speakers in the restaurant, another pressing reminder that Christmas was upon them, another pressing reminder that she was alone. It always seemed like holidays made her feel worse, and this was no exception.

Olivia's sob got stuck in her throat and she coughed, unable to hold back her emotions any longer. The tears that had been dammed up behind her thick lashes suddenly began to spill over, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand, looking up at him as she did.

"Did you even-" Her voice cracked as she inhaled sharply, the air feeling cold and stinging her nostrils, "What about me, Elliot? What am I suppose to do? I'm tired of watching everyone just fucking leave, and I know it's just a job and you're all just co-workers, but you all are all I have and right now, as of this moment, you're the only one that I really have left. Had left. What will I do? I… I can't do this without you. You know that. And you've always known it."

She wiped at her eyes again and stood up shakily. "I… I have to go."

"Olivia, wait-"

"Elliot, just…" She needed to get out of there. She needed to get outside, to leave the brightly lit restaurant and the haunting Christmas carols and the joy and the bright reds and greens and the holiday spirit and the Yuletide gayness that surrounded her and spat in the face of her heartbreaking loneliness. She was suffocating.

He hardly had time to stand before she quickly made for the door, and he rushed after her, not bothering to grab her jacket or make it look as though he was going to pay for the wine still sitting on the table.

The cold air hit him like a truck and the snow fell thick and heavy as he exited the restaurant, looking around for his jacketless partner as he did. He blinked away the tiny, icy flakes as he saw her trudging towards the corner, and he rushed after her.

"Olivia!"

She didn't respond, instead she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as she rubbed her biceps in an effort to warm herself.

Elliot trembled slightly due to the cold night air, and he realized that she must have been freezing. He lightly touched her arm and she turned her face up towards his, the tears on her glimmering in their frozen streaks.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"We don't have to talk." He whispered, pulling her to him and gently taking her face in his hands, brushing his thumbs lightly over her icicle tears. Olivia sniffled as she locked eyes with him. She would have pulled away because she was so angry and bitter and hurt but she was also extremely cold and he was surprisingly warm and so she let him. He pressed his forehead to hers and let his eyes close, gulping softly. Olivia's throat tightened as their noses brushed against each other and she felt her lips part involuntarily as they encountered his, their breath mingling together and seeping past them like a hot fog in the frosty night.

And she realized, very quickly, that he wasn't leaving her.

And, she thought with a smile, she was a bitch for thinking he would.

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A/N: I think one more chapter may be in order.


	3. There's No Place Else I Could Be

**Hell and a Hangover**

Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, it isn't mine. So sue me. But not really, I have no monies… o.0 Also, I'm updating quickly because I'm heading out of state in the morning, so I thought, hey, I may as well wrap up what I can. I hope you all enjoy. :]

P.S. Thanks for the kind reviews. ;]

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**Chapter Three: There's No Place Else I Could Be**

A soft groan escaped from her throat as she stretched out beneath the thick comforter that lay upon her, sliding her arms underneath her pillow and flipping it over onto the cool side. She smiled slightly in her half sleep as two arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her closer to the warm body that they were attached to. Soft, warm lips traveled down her neck and she sighed deeply, obviously pleased by the action.

"Merry Christmas." His voice was hot and raspy and quiet as he slid his hands up and down her bare stomach, feeling every tightening muscle beneath his fingertips as she twisted back to look at him, her eyes only half open as she locked gazes with him, sleep still clouding her thoughts and therefore confusing her.

"It's night time."

He chuckled quietly, placing a gentle kiss on her chin. "It's early… Christmas morning."

"Oh…" Her lips curled into another happy smile as her lips found his and she kissed him sweetly, hoping to stay where she was forever. Caught in the twilight that was the space between sleep and wakefulness and most importantly wrapped tightly in his arms. This place, she realized, a place of peace and comfort that she had always seen in other people's lives and never quite imagined having for herself, was the only place she ever wanted to be.

And she closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would stave off the coming dawn, begging them to rise and leave their warm bed to ready the house (their house) for the impending holiday festivities that they were going to take part in, holiday festivities that shockingly did not depress, distress or irritate her.

_This_, she admitted quietly to herself as his gentle caresses lulled her back into the realm of sleep, was far better than nights spent in cars waiting, watching for crimes to be committed and better than stripping to her under garments to protect him when he was undercover (something that she had, not that she wanted to confess even to herself that she had, loved to the point of it distressing her), it was better than the fights and the splitting up and the eventually coming back together because in all honestly they were just too magnetic to be apart for too long, eventually they just ended up crashing into each other, over and over again. Yes_, this_. She loved _this_. Everything about it was right and perfect and she adored the feeling of warmth that was constantly burning deep with her chest. She loved how the blanket felt heavy but cool as it wrapped around them and how the air crackled with some type of electricity every time they were together. She loved being able to finally love her life as opposed to just appreciate it.

As she went on loving and thinking about all the loving she was consistently doing she stretched out again and turned so that she could press herself against him, throwing a toned leg over his and snuggling her head into the space underneath his head that seemed perfectly built to suit her.

This place that felt like a small slice of eternity and ecstasy made everything else worth it, the years of pent up tension and aggravation, the night spent on the floor of her apartment with a broken nose and a devastated heart, the fact that the first time they experienced each other was a regrettable one, this moment and all the moments like it made up for it. The past year encompassed a lifetime that she had, unknowingly, been waiting for her entire existence.

His hand slid down her thigh to hook behind her knee as he brought his other hand up her back, slowly letting his fingers run in circles along her smooth skin. He loved nights like this, where they unknowingly stirred each other from their peaceful slumbers. Hell, he loved her. He loved how she looked in the mornings, her hair crumpled in interesting spots, how she would understand when he came home late, and how she expected and received the same consideration from him. He loved how drunk he was off of her smell, her intoxicating presence, how on the mornings when he woke up and she was absent from their warm bed he felt more hung-over than he ever had after a night of heavy drinking (and, believe him, he had had many in the recent years), and he loved how just one light brush of her lips over his would alleviate all of his symptoms of withdrawal.

As her lips gently touched his throat he smiled, his eyelids heavy with sleep and dizzying happiness, and he contemplated the past year, how so much had changed in so little time, and how all the little moments of seven years hadn't seemed as long as the one he had spent with her.

He finally had what he wanted, even if it had happened in a rather unconventional way. His new house, their new house, was more than four walls and a roof, it was the home he had been missing for so long, and it was filled up with such a pleasant feeling that leaving was almost unbearable. And he had her, God, yes, he had her. Finally, after years of feeling sorry for himself and guilty for what they'd done, for what he'd done to her, he was here, in her arms. The best thing about it too, was that she felt exactly the same way.

She slid her hands up over his chest and he stopped breathing, if only for a moment. A smile spread across her lips as she thought, for maybe the thousandth time, how nice it was to touch him, to feel him holding her, and to not feel ashamed or embarrassed or hurt, how nice it felt to feel loved when his fingers brushed across her face, and she thought about how this was how it always should have been. There should have never been that hurt or fear between them, and she was so fucking thankful that all of that was behind them, and while she hadn't forgotten (and she knew he hadn't) she had found it in herself to forgive him, because through it all she loved him, rashly and unconditionally.

"Baby…" He breathed softly, swallowing hard as her teeth scraped against the skin of his neck.

"Hm?"

"I was just thinking…"

Olivia smiled and slipped one of her hands over his that rested on her leg, "Isn't it too early for that?"

"Not if you've been thinking it for a long time."

"Then tell me what you were thinking." She breathed, sliding up so that their lips touched softly.

"Well… I was just thinking…" Elliot whispered, entwining his fingers with hers. "About how yours is the right kind of love."

Her eyes opened a bit wider and she pulled away, if only a few inches, to look at him. He smiled. She smiled. They both remembered (not as though they could forget).

"Yeah." Olivia whispered, pressing her forehead back against his, genuine love radiating from her eyes and her smile and every ounce of her soul. "This time it is."

/Fin

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A/N: I just had to have a happy ending! Extra points if you guess the lyrics the chapter titles consist of!


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